


Learning Curve

by indigo_illusion



Series: The Ruse Gambit [1]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Genderswap, Lesbian Sex, Light Dom/sub, POV First Person, femme!Gambit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 05:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14254404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_illusion/pseuds/indigo_illusion
Summary: This is just a bit of smutty fluff where Remy is learning to control her powers with Bella's help, because of an explosive issues that comes up while they're having fun times. No one gets hurt but that poor dildo :(





	Learning Curve

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I said her powers because this is an AU with a female Gambit which spawned from a Rifts RPG that I was in. There are some other gender changes that will come up later if/when I post more of what I've written. Obviously Belladonna is still female given lesbians in the tags ;)  
> Also there's some French because Cajuns and that does happen in the comics, but I'm hoping it should be obvious what it means given context.

“No, no, right there,” she moan, “Keep going.”

The dildo move up and down in my grasp. Every once in a while it's difficult to keep hold as she shifts her body up and down to force the blue penis deeper inside her. She chew on the corner of her lip. Her eyes screw tighter closed as one hand grab hold of the sheets by her head and scrunch them up in her grasp as she writhes.

I wish that the sheet was my shoulder. She could drag her nails across me and grasp so tight that it bleed. I adjust my grip so I can kiss up from just below her belly button towards her breasts. The idea is to nibble on each nipple while sitting us both up for better leverage, except as I'm kissing close to her left breast I feel the tingle beginning in my fingers.

“Whatever you doing, baby, keep it up. Dat feel awesome,” she murmur, wriggling around.

I feel less awesome. Her level of enjoyment should keep me excited, it normally does; but that tingling causes the awesome to turn to lead and sink down into my stomach. I glance quickly to my hand, it doing it alright. I pull it out as quickly as I dare.

She sits up, more than a little put out, until I toss the poor blue penis into the air between where we are on the bed and the wall of the motel room and it explodes like a firework.

She gasp, then turn to me with a mischievous grin, “I dun know if I should be upset or flattered.”

I look across to her, wiping my hand on the sheet, “I'm sorry, Belle—I...”

She close the distance pushing her breasts against mine, and lean close to my ear, “Don' be sorry, Remy, you didn' explode my nedders so dat a win far as I'm concerned. Guess dis mean it my turn for you.” She nibbles on my ear lobe then kiss my neck, wrapping her legs around my back and squeezing us close together. She stops at my jaw realizing I'm not responding. She look back at me then, concerned, “ _Cherie_? I know you like dat...”

“I do. I do.” I hold both sides of her head and I kiss her, but I'm hesitant and she notice.

“Explain.”

“If I did dat...” I wave in direction where the dildo blew up, “what might I do if you...”

She give me an impish grin, moving her arms so that her breasts come together deeply in front of her, “I don't t'ink you want to go de rest of yo' life wid'out sex, no?”

I lean back against the bed, arms behind my head. That would be utter torture and she know it, “I dun--”

She sitting on top of me. Her knees curl against the bed like a resting cat, “You really t'ink that be feasible for you?” Her crotch is on top of mine and she leans forward so her breasts are directly in my view. She put her hands on top of _my_ breasts, which are smaller than her own by at least a cup and a half and squeeze mischievously.

I'm the one chewing my lip now, as she lean over and lick the tip of my left nipple while continuing to squeeze my other breast. She lean so her hair framing both our faces and goes to kiss me but then doesn't, holding her mouth just above mine. I move my face up toward hers and she back away, “No, no, no. You dun want to do t'ings wit' me, right? You going celibate now,” she pulls herself back up and folds her arms in front of her chest, turning her breasts into lovely round mountains that I want to climb, “No more sex for _Mam'selle_ LeBeau.” she wag a finger at me.

I know I must look sad. She right. I won't be able to keep that up with her, with anyone else I find. I don't need to be blowing things up all the while though.

“So, I will teach you.” She say, generously.

“I know how--.”

“Ah, ba-ba,” she put her finger to my lips, “You need to learn control, _n'est-ce pas_?”

“Yes.”

She frown at me but it impish too, “ _Oui. Oui, maitresse_.”

“ _Oui, maitresse_.”

“ _Bon_ ,” she say, with a grin, “Now, you're mine. I am going to do t'ings to you and you will behave or suffer de consequence. You understand?”

“ _Oui_ ,” I say nothing more, smiling at her.

She pick up one of the pillows and brandish it at me, “ _Oui, qui_?”

“ _Oui, maitresse._ ”

“ _Bon_.” She lean down and kisses me deeply. Her tongue probes the depth of my mouth, playing with my own. I feel a tingling, but this is deep inside my loins. She cradle the back of my head with her hands, digging her nails into my scalp. I reach up to hold her shoulders, to grip her tightly. Her hair catches between my hands and her flesh and I feel as she continue to press her nails into my scalp that other tingling: my hands generating energy and it resonating with her hair.

I have a moment of panic but I don't want to pull away. The idea of blowing up her head almost makes me vomit and if I let go it will. That noise: me groaning quietly, in panic, pulls her back from the kiss, “What it be?” her own eyes betray uneasiness for a moment.

I don't want her to explode. I don't. There has to be a way for that not to happen.

She look at me sharply. I wonder if she feel it too, energy against her head, “You dun want to blow me up, right?”

“No, no,” I close my eyes for a moment. I don't. I don't. Come back to me. No explosion. No charge. Self control. I realize my hands don't feel tingly.

“No brain matter,” she say, kissing me again, “ _Merci, ma belle_.”

“I'm not Belle,” I tease, “You're Belle.”

“First step,” she point out, leaning in to me once more. She kisses my mouth, then my collar bone, just above my left breast, my right nipple. I try to kiss her, but she push me back, “Behave.”

“ _Oui, maitresse_.”

“ _Bon_.”

Her head reaches my vulva and she tease the top of my clit with tip of her tongue; then she blows air from between her lips across where she just lick. I feel the shudder. I grip hold of the sheets, please, no, keep it in. Her tongue traces it former path twice, and then she press more deeply, tongue parting my other lips. I can feel the tease where she almost giggling to herself, the intake of breath, the peak.

My whole body want to catch fire.

She dig her nails into my legs as she tease her tongue here, and there, and there inside me.

It's hard enough to maintain control of my own senses when she play these games, let alone not blow up a bed, a room.

I can't revel in the moment. I have to keep track of my energy. I want to give in to the sensation of her tongue and the letters she trace there.

“It will come, _cherie_ ,” she say, after. She toy with the hair that falls across my face, as I rest my head on her breast.

“I dun like not enjoying dis,” I had said.

She had pouted, “What you mean, didn' enjoy?”

“I couldn't let go the way I wanted to. Half my brain was on what I was doing with my energy, not on what you were doing to me.”

“It a sacrifice I'm willing to make,” she says.

“What you mean?”

She roll me off her, and pins me to the bed, “We have to keep at dis until it second nature to keep dat control,” she look positively devilish, “if dat take weeks or even mont's I'm willing to do dat work.” She trace her finger down my neck towards my stomach, “all dat work, work, work, work, work.” I lean up to kiss her, “Dat is how much I love you. I will endure dat torture.”

“I love you too, Belle.”

“You damn well, better,” she says, and then she laughs.

I cup her face with my hands and kiss her. This time I push my tongue into her mouth, playing with hers, wrapping it in mine and pressing towards her, “I do. I do.” The more you say something the more it can come real, right? Considering what we got to do for family.

“Good,” she says, “Because now it's my turn. Get to work.”

 

 


End file.
